


Your Prometheus

by Shiro_Hunter



Category: Code Vein (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near-ending spoilers, No actual ending spoilers but the tears tastes better if you've got the bad ending, Vague mentions of sex but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiro_Hunter/pseuds/Shiro_Hunter
Summary: It's the day before the final battle, and anything he needed to think about from last night could wait; right now, all he needed to focus on was to supporthimin his final journey. But still, Louis wondered what he could have done to be his hero’s Prometheus—the savior who brings light into the darkness—just as the Queenslayer, burdened with the weight of his sin, had done for him.
Relationships: Louis/Protagonist (Code Vein)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 82





	Your Prometheus

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads-up, this work contains vague descriptions of sex but nothing too explicit. Please let me know if you think I should bump the rating up, thanks!
> 
> I wrote the protagonist with my chara/OC in mind but also tried being vague so not really?? Depends on how you look at it tbh, the only OC thing is the name and that's probably mentioned like, twice  
Anyway hELLO uh I love my disaster vampire boys and Code Vein destroyed my heart and I will not be alone in this hell so enjoy

That morning, Louis woke up to an empty head and an emptier hole in his heart.

Last night had been… unexpected, to say the least. 

The team had reported that they had almost found a way through the Provisional Government Center, and with it, what may be their final battle loomed ever closer. The atmosphere around home base was tense. _ Everyone _ was tense. And if that was the case for them, who could say how _he _, the hero essentially about to sacrifice himself in place of Silva, was supposed to feel? It had been this line of thought that brought Louis to his partner’s room that night. Somewhat unsurprisingly, one thing had led to another, and perhaps one of both of them had had a little too much of distraction drinking, however…

That night — when they finally realized their feelings for each other, and their veils had been lifted off, bare before each other with everything they were for the first time; when conscience were left unheard, and they let what remained of their human instinct take over; when hot breaths mingled with whispered, adoring words that had been left unsaid for God knows how long, sloppy kisses mixed with breathless moans; when they tried to drown out a million thoughts with each other’s _ everything _, in hopes of a moment’s respite from the bleakness of it all…

—That night, the hero broke down.

He’d cried. Cried his heart out, in the middle of everything, from all the burden he couldn’t manage to forget, from the whispers that kept haunting him despite his best efforts to keep it down. Gone all the composure and the confidence that had been feigned in front of his comrades, yet the lone hero had still tried to hide his face when tears started rolling down. Still tried to suppress his sobs, as if hell bent on keeping this part of him a secret to the second grave.

> (As if hell bent on shouldering all the burden on his own.)

And Louis could understand, to some extent, how he felt: after all, were it not for the Successor’s unique ability, he would have taken on this grueling job himself.

> (It was supposed to be his responsibility.)  
(His sin to bear.)

But right now, it wasn’t Louis’s. It was _ his _ — him, the hero, the only light of hope in this bleak hell, his alone despite his comrades’ reassurances — his responsibility, his sin, and his alone to bear. 

So, as silly a position as it was, Louis had kissed his hero on the forehead. Whispered comforting ‘it’s okay’s and ‘I’m here’s in hopes it would subside the heartfelt pain that must’ve hurt more than any bloodthirst a revenant could deal with; wiped away the fresh, hot tears rolling down his cheeks; gently stroked his head as the lonesome hero wept into his chest. Louis had stayed by his side until he’d cried himself to sleep, all the while wondering what he could do — _ could’ve _ done — to be _ his _ hero’s Prometheus, the savior who brings light into the darkness just as the Queenslayer had done to him.

> (It’s ironic, really.)  
(He was supposed to be the martyr.)  
(It was supposed to be his burden.)

Louis ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. He had to admit, last night didn’t quite go as planned, but this wasn’t the time for this—they were going to go to Silva’s crypt soon. Whatever it was that he needed to think about from the previous night, that could wait; right now, all he needed to focus on was to support _ him _ in his final journey.

_ Speaking of which, though… _ Louis thought to himself, glancing over at the empty bed. _ Where _ is _ he? _

Louis got up, absent-mindedly threw on a fresh pair of clothes and went out to the main room of their home base.

* * *

As expected, no one was awake — hell, the sun barely was — so Louis had half a mind to hole up in his reading corner and power through his unfinished books all morning. Before he could, though, a certain, familiar smell originating from the front door caught his attention. 

It was a campfire, set up just outside their home base and behind some rubble to protect it against the wind. The smell itself, Louis realized, originated from a rather shabby pot (inside of which he spied some vegetables and chunks of meat that looked like it might as well have been thrown in for the sake of it) boiling gently above the fire. Beside it all, sitting on top of a piece of fallen pillar while adjusting the fire with a Thrall’s pipe as a makeshift poker, was the lone hero whose shoulders were about to bear the world as they know it.

Louis watched on for a while. If only because he didn’t know what to say, what to think. Eventually, however, he took a deep breath and approached the campfire, repeating the words five times in his head before remarking: “I didn’t know you’d taken to cooking.”

The hero looked up halfway through a yawn, but smiled at his comrade nonetheless. 

“Jack told me I used to be good at it, back in the army,” he said. “And besides, the ingredients that human girl brought for us were starting to rot. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste, right?”

“I suppose.” Louis hummed. “May I watch you?”

“Uh, sure, but why?”

“I’m...rather curious about outdoor cooking, I have to admit,” _ Good enough excuse for now. _“Though I was never much of a cook myself.”

“Well, we’re on the same boat, here.” The Successor chuckled. He moved a bit on the pillar, then patted the empty space beside him, signalling for Louis to take a seat.

It was only when Louis had sat down that he finally realized what was so familiar about the savory, fishy smell coming from the pot. “Say, is this…oden?”

“Yeah. Yakumo taught me how to make it the other day,” explained the hero, using his pipe to lift up the pot’s lid and reveal the clear, brown broth simmering inside. “I figured it was the best way to make use of this ragtag bunch of foodstuff all at once. That, and, well…”

His voice trailed off, but it wasn’t hard to guess what was supposed to come after. Louis _ did _ take a glance at what kind of vegetables were in that broth just now, after all. “...Did you want to make some tomato oden sandwich*? ...For me?”

The hero nodded silently, and Louis could swear he saw a slight blush forming on the hero’s cheeks. “Want to try it? I can’t vouch for the taste, though…”

Louis chuckled. “I can tell it tastes good already from the smell, but we’ll see. ...Thanks.”

He took the pipe from the hero’s hands and dragged the pot closer to him on the stick it was hanging on. From the lovely selection of whole food thrown into the oden, a poor tomato was selected for the taste test and stabbed with a small dagger Louis had taken out of his pocket — He took a small bite out of it, careful not to let the juices spill in the process.

“Could use some more time in the soup,” commented Louis expertly, munching on the soaked tomato. “Though the taste from the broth is quite similar to actual oden overall. I’m surprised you managed to get it so flavorful with what we have available.”

“You think so? Well, it helps that Coco stocked up on some old-world garnish from the shelter the other day,” The hero smiled, relieved that his apparently-forgotten cooking prowess hadn’t rusted away. “I just went with the recipe Yakumo gave me, honestly — I don’t even know how it’s supposed to taste.”

“You’ve never tried oden before?”

“Not that I can remember. When I get some, I just hand them out.”

“I see,” said Louis, looking down at the tomato hanging off his dagger. “Want a bite, then?”

The hero seemed taken aback by the offer. “You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s your cooking.”

Thus the pierced tomato was offered, dagger and all, and it took the hero a blink before he (almost hesitantly) shifted closer to take a bite. Their shoulders touching now, the hero munched on the soggy vegetable before looking up, surprised.

“It’s good.” 

“Isn’t it?” Louis smiled at him, proud.

The hero laughed. “If I'd known they were this good, maybe I would've kept those sandwiches for myself instead of giving it to you.”

Louis pouted slightly, one of the few emotions he had learned to let himself express in front of him. “Maybe introducing you to this was a mistake.”

“Maybe.”

A brief silence, and the hero suddenly burst into a full-on laugh. Maybe it was the timing of it, or maybe the normalcy of it all, talking and enjoying a tranquil morning during what was supposed to be a time of crisis, but Louis couldn’t help but laugh along. Couldn’t help but think how stupid it had been for him to feel so awkward all morning — and somehow, he had a feeling that his comrade felt the same way, too.

“...Louis?” The hero started once their laughter had died down, once the distant, awkward wall they’d accidentally built between them all morning had finally crumbled. “I’m…sorry I ruined the mood last night.”

“Don’t worry about it,” replied Louis calmly, trying to ignore the pang in his chest that came from something other than bloodthirst. “It was my fault too for not noticing sooner. Forgive me.”

The hero chuckled wryly, as if willing to argue with that, but he instead rested his head on Louis’s shoulder, closing his eyes. The aforementioned revenant leader simply let him, laying his head on the shock of dark hair after flinging the half-eaten tomato back into the pot, enjoying both the campfire and their own shared warmth amidst the cold morning wind of the Vein.

“I was…scared.” admitted the hero quietly, after a few minutes of calm quietness.

“Of sitting on top of that throne?” Louis asked back, nuzzling into his hero’s hair.

The hero shook his head. “Not exactly, no,” He began. “It’s not something I look forward to, but I don’t doubt that you guys would be with me no matter what — I don’t doubt that _ you’d _ be with me. But…”

“But?” asked Louis when his voice trailed off once again.

The hero opened his eyes, staring at nothing in particular for a bit before answering. “I was scared, of what would happen to you if I were too weak to sit on that throne in the first place.”

“...You know we’d still be with you even if that were to happen,” Louis reassured, after a pregnant pause. “Even to the depths of hell.”

“I know that, but—“ the hero sighed, trying hard not to let his voice raise. “If I frenzy, what’s going to happen? You’ll all be forced to take on the relics — you’ll all be forced to endure the same suffering the Successors went through.

“I don’t mind if I’m the one who has to bear it, but…” He continued. “The thought that I could make _ all _ of you endure that, endure the _ world _ for all eternity, even though the only thing you would've done wrong was to have met me, even though you’ve all suffered enough already... _that _…that scares me.”

For a time, there was silence, filled only with the soft crackling of fire and the sounds of morning breeze blowing past. Louis had taken this moment to take the hero’s shaking hand into his, and _ he _had more than gladly accepted the gesture, entangling their fingers together.

“Nevertheless, we believe in you,” Louis began, not letting go of his hand. “Like Mia said, don’t try to take all of this upon yourself.”

“I’m the one who succeeded the Queen’s blood. I can’t drag anybody else into this.”

“With that logic, I'd be responsible for forcing you to turn into a revenant in the first place. The reality is, your power saved us, and we’re here to repay that debt. We’re with you.”

“You say I saved you, but if all I do is bring you down to hell with me, I—“

“Yukio.”

At the mention of his name, the hero looked up, just in time to see Louis’s face, now inches away from him, dominating his vision. a velvet touch at the back of his head surprised him, for a moment, before the touch of a forehead upon his calmed him back down. For the first time since the previous night, he was distracted of a million thoughts — he could feel his breath, so warm and so close, his pleasant smell, the only thing he could think of describing as ‘home’, and his crimson gaze, catching his own and almost dazing him by the sheer intensity of it. The Successor was surprised he could still pay attention when Louis said, in one of his reassuring, reliable tone that earned him the title of a leader and _ his _ lover:

“It’ll be alright,” he said, firm yet warm and more calming than anything all at once. “Like I said: we’re with you. Your burden is our burden. Me, Yakumo, Mia, Jack, and everybody else — we all made that decision ourselves long ago. If you’re going to the depths of hell, we’re going down with you.

“This isn’t about being ‘dragged into’ or ‘responsibilities’ — though believe me, I understand the sentiment,” Louis continued, his brows furrowed and his gaze trailing off to the side for briefly before going back to stare into the hero’s once again. “All we want is to do the same thing you once did to us — taking on our burdens and sharing with us a light of hope.

“So it’ll be alright, I promise,” he emphasized once again, for good measure. “Trust me, we’ll believe in you — _ I’ll _ believe in you.”

The hero didn’t say anything — _ couldn’t _ say anything. He couldn’t take his gaze off the crimson eyes staring right into his, couldn’t move, as if fearing time would move again if he did. He felt the tears at the corner of his eyes, pooling up and threatening to fall again from another set of, newer and less bleak now, million thoughts running through his head. And he certainly didn’t resist when Louis gently pulled him in so that their place of contact moved from their foreheads, down to their lips.

They stayed like that for a little while, simply melting into each other’s presence as they had done last night. A single tear had escaped the hero when he closed his eyes for the kiss, but was gently wiped away once they'd broken apart, not breaking eye contact.

Before either of them could say anything, the two revenants pulled each other into a tight embrace. As if scared of letting go of each other, as if scared of letting go of this small, miniscule moment in time they wanted to treasure until the end of time.

“Thank you. ...So much.” It was the hero, eventually, who broke the magic-like silence between them. “And, Louis?”

“Yes?” Louis gently replied into his ear.

“I realize how this must sound to you of all people, but…” The hero said, smiling bitterly yet warmly, acceptingly yet hopefully. “If anything does happen, could I ask that you be the one to kill me? Just…a little selfish request of mine.”

Louis paused, took a deep breath, then pulled the hero into an even tighter embrace. “You have my word.”

“Thank you.” The Queenslayer smiled, burying his face into the shoulder of _ his _ Prometheus — his savior who brought light into the darkness — and closed his eyes. “I love you, Louis.”

And the Prometheus also smiled, letting his eyes flutter shut peacefully. “I love you too.”

> _ Whatever may come, we’ll face it together. _
> 
> _ All of us. _

* * *

_ (*) FYI: Tomato Oden Sandwich is one of Louis’s favorite trading items. In-game, he explains that Karen used to like it—tomatoes soaked in oden for a day and put in a sandwich. He’s quite pleased if you give some to him. _

**Author's Note:**

> Prometheus is a Titan in Greek mythology most famously remembered for sacrificing himself by defying the Gods and bringing fire to humanity, advancing the civilization at the expense of eternal punishment, and I always love just how on-brand it is for Louis's blood code to be named after it. Boy, look at the bloodcodes of people around Louis and tell me this self-sacrifice isn't a trend in the Amamiya bloodline.
> 
> ANYWAY I made this to work with all endings but, I will not say how but I'll just say what I did in the tags: The tears will be tastier if you've got the bad ending :') Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, Louis, I hope you know I researched Oden recipes for you and am now craving soup. I hope you're proud


End file.
